


Beskar Heart: Razor Crest Radio Explicit (Epilogue 4)

by The Corellian Pirate (Turhaya_Hundteth)



Series: Beskar Heart [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Swallowing, Cowgirl Position, Cunnilingus, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Doggy Style, F/M, French Kissing, Helmetless Din Djarin, Humor, Kissing, Love, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Missionary Position, My First Smut, Oral Sex, Orgasm, POV Din Djarin, POV Multiple, Relationship(s), Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Humor, Shameless Smut, Smut, Spanking, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27914356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turhaya_Hundteth/pseuds/The%20Corellian%20Pirate
Summary: This is a graphic smut piece. You have been warned. This epilogue takes place in the Offmap cabin, and the tale follows the exploits of Din Djarin during the recording of the Mayfeld-Dune edition of ‘Razor Crest Radio’. It is written from both the Mandalorian’s and Pirate’s viewpoints.There’s nothing here that’s essential to the plot of Beskar Heart - it’s simply a bit of adult fun… literally… so you’re not missing anything in the story. However, if you’ve NOT read Beskar Heart, yeah there’s story references you’re not going to get, but I don’t think it will hinder your enjoyment of the good bits.Language warning. Explicit sexual content.
Series: Beskar Heart [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707496
Kudos: 7





	1. The Tracker

**Author's Note:**

> This piece places itself in the middle of the chapter The Pay Day, in Beskar Heart (the original story). It inserts right between the Blood Striping of Din Djarin and the emergence of Mayfeld from the junk hotel. I've added lead in and lead out text for your convenience...

**DEDICATED TO THE RAZOR CREST**

Old, clunky, in terrible shape.

Forever rebuilt by friend’s generosity,

But undeniably rare and unique.

A beloved, hard-working, source of stability,

Just like the Mandalorian himself.

Today we down tools, and drink to your legacy.

YOU’LL BE MISSED, YOU SORRY PILE OF CRAP.

_Doaba ol'val tru._

\- The Hundteth Clan.

_“Well…” he said, as he took out the vial’s stopper “…Chakta Sai Kae.” It was a Corellian toast. He downed the small amount of coagulating Trooper blood he had taken from the dark corridor aboard the Acclamator. It had been his first kill since joining the Clan._

_Din swallowed and said with a grimace “It’s disgusting…” but his wife silenced him, taking what was left in his mouth with her tongue._

_She ran her hands over his shirtless back, touching every inch she could get to. If he touched her right, it caused her to dig her nails into his skin in the best possible way. He pushed himself hard against her, and she arched her back with an involuntary growl. As his hand found its way into her shirt, she grabbed handfuls of his hair and kissed him harder. It was his turn to growl._

_When the Pirate was finally done, she leaned back from him and said “Congratulations, Mando. You’re a War Dog now.”_

_“It’s really not so bad, you know, once you get past the taste.”_

_“I love the taste…”_

_Her hands had decided on a place to settle. Years of flying stick had made her remarkably ambidextrous. But just as the bounty hunter decided it was time to collect on her puck, his wrist tracker bleeped to life on the table…_

***

Shit.

Din scowled with frustration. Mayfeld must have taken off in the Crest. Right when Turhaya’s hands had started working him. “I need to go. I have to get to your ship to patch in to the Pirate line.”

“Relax, Djarin,” she purred “I’ve already granted you master access through the cabin’s tech deck. This is your house too…” She picked up the tracker and tapped it a few times, then leant across the table to the middle, and switched on the deck which was sitting there. “You can broadcast everything from here. I reckon we’ve got a good twenty minutes before they hit the junk hotel and get into it. Plenty of time.”

She returned her attention to him, much to his delight, pressing him against the table with her body. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she kissed him again. Her tongue was eager and skilled, and she breathed heavily, making little noises of pleasure. While he was partially dazed from the feeling of her hands in his hair, her foot reached behind him and pulled the bench seat out from under the table. As it caught the back of his legs, he was forced to sit heavily on the furs. “Aggressive manoeuvre, even for a Corellian...” he smirked at her, causing her to grin back. Turhaya was never one to tease. She didn’t know how. She was an animal of pure, intense, instinct.

She straddled him and resumed kissing him passionately. He was hard as beskar and hot as hell, but he still felt _her_ heat through their clothing as she pushed herself on him. She was burning, and her hands ran over his shirtless chest in a way that expressed every bit of her arousal. Tur started to grind slowly, and his hands slid into the back of her pants, gripping her smoothly enticing ass. She stopped kissing him and moaned, staring into his eyes, while rubbing her heat firmly over his cock. He was just enjoying the sight of her hungry expression, when she leant in, caught his earlobe with her mouth, and started sucking.

All rational thought left his mind as her tongue flicked, and her teeth lightly grazed. He felt her body shift, and his mind tried to make sense of it, but he somehow couldn’t penetrate the sensuous fog that had engulfed him. The incredible soft, wet, beauty of her mouth at his ear was all that he could register. He was lost in the feeling, and his sensitivity to the overwhelming stimulation, born from his long years of bucket-induced deprivation, made him painfully hard.

When he regained his lucidity, she was gone. Already getting on her knees on the floor, now between his legs, kissing his chest and working her way down. She paused briefly at his nipples to suck at them playfully, before continuing her journey. He smiled in a rather dazed fashion at her and said “You’re keen. As always...” causing her to laugh, while her tongue trailed down his bare stomach.

Tur returned his lust-drunk gaze with one of her own, her fingers playing with the dark hair above his waistband. She demanded with a grin “Unholster, Mandalorian...”

He obliged her, slipping his pants down, and presenting his fully engorged prick to her with one hand. The other delicately found the silky depths of her hair as she took him in her own grip and planted her keen tongue squarely on the base of his shaft. She looked up into his eyes and began to slowly, and deliberately, run her tongue firmly upwards. As she reached the top, she used one hand to hold him, while the other gently played with his sack.

He let out a groan and felt his brow crease, as she paused at the tip to circle her tongue a few times. She was grinning at the look on his face, hands stroking. Then, without warning, she plunged him deep into the back of her throat. She moaned, and the vibration of her vocals rattled him, as she slowly withdrew him and sucked hard.

The hand in her hair now held fast, and his other was vice-like on the bench seat, as she took him deep into her throat once more. Withdrawing slowly, sucking harder than an airlock, before going deep again. The force of her suction caused his blood to rush, as though his manhood obeyed her command to reach the full extent of its capabilities. She plunged him into her throat again. Again, and again....

***

Tur heard the Mando above her, breathing hard now, as she eased up on the suction and began to twist her head back and forth. “Fuck! Your big mouth comes in handy for something, you evil little skrag.” he said.

Excellent. Din was getting vocal, and she _loved it_ when he talked dirty. Despite what she had first assumed from his stoic demeanour, the Mando was a foul-mouthed deviant when the lid came off. Tonight, his voice was smug with egotistical pleasure, as she supplicated herself in front of him. “Yeah... suck on my balls too...” Din’s sultry mutterings were punctuated by his beautiful, sleazy groans “Oh shit, yeah, that’s good... You love it, you dirty bitch.”

His heavy breathing became broken by with soft grunts as her hands and mouth unrelentingly worked him. “Yeah, that’s it...” he groaned at her “Now, take it all...”.

Looking up into his eyes, which were shining with excitement, she removed her hand from him and, starting from the head, slowly pushed his cock all the way into her throat as far as it would go. The pleasure of it made him to throb, and he hit her gag reflex, causing her to contract rapidly around him for a moment. “ _Oh, fuck!_ Yeah, choke on it… Good girl...” he muttered, and she knew the sensation of her throat gripping him like that drove him insane.

Tur pushed and made herself gag again. Many women couldn’t resist the beskar, and most viewed Mandalorians as a prize. Din had super-hot women suck his dick in the past, much prettier than she was. However, looks were trivial and fleeting, just like reputations. No one likes a lover who leaves you wanting. Din was special cargo, well beyond her normal hauling limit, but Tur enjoyed the challenge of killing trophy bucks, and she was a skilled hunter.

Din, the smarmy bastard (inexperienced as he was) was a fucking natural. Talented. Coordinated. Hot as hell and hung like a god. Generously giving, dirty as fuck, and a bloody fast learner too. No wonder she couldn’t resist having his cock in her mouth. She traced the veins of his hard on with her tongue as she withdrew him, and looked up, feeling tears roll down her cheeks.

Staring into the Mando’s eyes, she prepared to choke herself again.

***

The sight of her looking up at him with tear filled eyes, gagging, drove him crazy. She loved it. To the point where she was willing to choke herself on his angrily erect cock just to make him happy.

His woman was more devoid of inhibition, and _fucking eager_ , than any he’d previously encountered. Finding a wife with a beskar heart had proved difficult enough in the first place, so Din counted himself lucky. She may not be the hottest thing he’d ever had his hands on, but she was still undeniably sexy, and after all those years of frustration, she was exactly what he needed: a perpetually horny, certified slut.

Her hands released him, and found his legs, gently caressing him as they travelled to the tops of his ass cheeks. He knew what was coming and relaxed his grip on her hair, allowing her dark locks to flow loosely between his fingers. He let go of the bench, and his other hand sought her hair too.

She gently used her hands and arms to secure herself with his legs, while she moved her head up and down. Her mouth gripped his cock gently this time, allowing it to move more freely, and she used this new-found freedom to pick up the pace significantly.

The wriggling feel of her tongue played quickly along the underside of his shaft, while his swollen head rubbed on the soft pallet at the back of her mouth. Her pace stroked him with a rhythmic warmth that made Din’s head spin. Every now and then, she let go of his ass with one hand, and ran it greedily over his stomach and chest.

He gently played with her hair, feeling the soft, velvet-like regrowth on the sides, and combing the longer strands away from her face. His tender touch made her moan, and the feeling of her noises caused him to surge unexpectedly towards release.

“Oh, shit! Stop, or I’ll blow! Fuck!”

She took him out of her mouth, and breathing like she had just run a mile, said “You _are_ fired up, aren’t you? I’d better get on this thing while I still can… Pants all the way off Mando.” and she grabbed his lowered waistband, jerking it roughly down to his ankles.

He kicked his pants off, and pulled a spare deer pelt from the bench, throwing it over the table behind him. Sex in a wooden cabin had taught him some valuable lessons about splinters. She got off the floor and pulled her own pants off, quickly straddling him with her knees on the fur-covered bench seat. Upright, her chest against him, she pulled off her top, allowing her soft, pale (and rather sizable) breasts to fall onto his face.

He was in heaven. “By the gods....”

Trapped under the bucket, he had spent years as a youth fantasising about rubbing his face over every part of a woman’s body. He closed his eyes and spent a moment feeling her. His cheeks and forehead tingled as they revelled in the sensation provided by her creamy flesh, while his hands ran swiftly, but gently, over her smooth back and ass. He felt one of her erect nipples brush against his cheek, and his lips instinctively sought it out.

***

She knew he loved it, and she was always generous, happily giving him exactly what he wanted. Tur knew the bounty hunter always repaid his debts in full, and he was always grateful for the small pleasures which he had been long denied.

“You poor, deprived fucker!” she chuckled, and scratched her nails lightly over his scalp as she played with his hair, causing him to groan with delight. He grabbed her ass and held her close to him. Everywhere he put his mouth, his tongue was sure to follow, savouring the taste of her skin, and teasing at her hard nipples. He had pulled her in so tightly with his ass-kneading grasp, she had to reach behind her to get to his hard on.

Lowering herself slightly, she rubbed his tip back and forth over her pussy. Teasing her delicate lips and pleasuring her hard, little clit. She was now dripping wet, and her juices covered both the head of his cock, and her fingers. “Can you feel how badly I want you?” she purred into his hair, kissing the top of his head.

***

With great difficulty, Din stopped sucking her nipple and looked up her with his eyebrow raised “If you want me so badly, why aren’t I inside you yet?”

She quickly slipped the head of his dick inside her, and raised her own eyebrow “Who’s piloting this ship, asshole? Last time I looked it was _me_ in control of the stick...” and with that, she slid gently down on him the whole way, never breaking eye contact.

Deliciously wet heat enclosed tightly around his hard on, and her expression mirrored what must have been on his own face - undeniable satisfaction, with a subtle hint of ravenous intent. Arms around his neck, one hand playing lazily in the back of his hair, her hips began to rock. He quietly crooned at her “Yeah, baby. Do your dance.”

The Mando may have had a limited past compared to the promiscuous Pirate, but he’d still seen and done things on his travels. He’d watched women ride poorly; bouncing almost comically, out of rhythm, legs beginning to tire from inefficient use, and completely ignorant of the unsatisfied grimaces on the faces of the men beneath them.

Turhaya was none of that. She liked to _grind_ , and she was a fucking expert at it. His little War Dog could achieve a satisfying stroke on him using nothing more than those rolling, circling, thrusting hips. And when the frenzy began to spread beyond her pelvis, every other body part seemed to follow its lead.

***

He felt glorious inside her. Din’s thick, satisfying, shaft worked her pleasure spot. “Holy Hondo, your cock feels good...” Tur leant forward, and whispered in his ear.

Her eyes ate up his facial expressions, and her hands enjoyed his seasoned physique. The beskar came off so rarely, just being able to _look_ at him was a huge turn on, but it was his heavy-duty blaster which made her moan like a cheap whore (as Mayfeld liked to say - normally accompanied by a highly uncanny impersonation of her).

She started kissing Din. Tasting his tongue. Sucking on his beautifully pouty lower lip. Running her hands through his dark hair, and occasionally stopping just to observe the expressions of pleasure on his face. “Fuck, you’re addictive.” she grinned at him.

He flexed, thrusting himself at the same time with a grunt. He was such a fucking narcissist! But she loved his bravado, and all the while the delicious heat and hardness of him filled her pussy. As she slid on him, she _felt_ him - felt every contour of his erection. The firm ridge of his head. The curve of him. The thickness of...

***

Din’s eyes rolled with delight as she softly uttered things in his ear. Describing in graphic detail how he felt inside her. How she could feel every curve and contour of his throbbing cock, pressing its pleasure upon her from within. Sometimes the Pirate purred with lust, other times she growled with savage hunger. Mostly, she just moaned in ecstasy. His queen then called him to arms - elaborately explaining how she wanted him to (after she had ridden him to climax, of course) throw her face first on the table and fuck her brains out.

He started responding, whispering how wet and perfectly tight she felt. How incredibly hot her hive was, and how cool his sack had become now that it was soaked in her dripping honey. Then he started muttering darkly about all the ways he would respond to her request for a brutal pounding, but of course, only after his dirty little whore had finished her mesmerising dance.

The whole time he ran his hands over every inch of skin he could get to. It gave him as much pleasure to feel her smooth curves, as it apparently gave her to be touched. Her back started to arch and writhe, causing her breasts to sway lusciously in front of him. Her body trembled and shivered under the command of his fingers, and he pleasantly recalled their tryst nights, when he had hosed down most of those enticing body parts with loads of hot cum.

With that happy memory still in his mind, Din concluded their dialogue by getting his revenge and gently sucking on her ear. A loud, and rather high-pitched cry escaped her. The Pirate’s legs weakened, her knees slid outwards on the furs beneath them, causing her to sink with all her weight on his cock. She shivered, and he chuckled, as her pussy squeezed on him in the most satisfying way.

***

As he sucked on her ear, Tur’s legs almost gave way in ecstasy, and she heard him chuckle at his own cleverness as she sank on him. She quivered, and everything between her legs was now screaming for her to hurry up and cum.

She leant in and took a hand hold in the pelt wedged behind his back, fingers securing their grip in the luxurious fur. She wrestled her earlobe out of his lips, and cocking an eyebrow at him for his cheek, she growled “You want it, Mando? Don’t worry - I’m about to give it to you.”

She started thrusting faster. Harder. With her grip now secured, her arms now worked as hard as her hips, ass, and thighs. She was now screwing him with all her might, her whole body working in furious unison.

“You know what I want!” the bounty hunter barked at her. To Tur, it sounded somewhere between a savage command, and a desperate plea. She let go of the pelt with one hand and reached up to Din’s hair, carefully taking hold. She looked the Mando directly in the eye. The Pirate wouldn’t miss this for all Corellia: his face was burning with anticipation.

“Do it!” he ordered her.

Turhaya pulled on Din’s hair, yanking his head back roughly. He groaned loudly, a wince momentarily appearing on his face, but she already knew it wasn’t enough. That’s because she also knew he liked to play the game. She was not disappointed at the result.

 _“Giaragr o’r sa’a, Karamilyr sadapa!”_ he growled savagely at her. _Pride in endeavour, Pirate cunt!_

The Mando’a made her melt. So did the thirsty begging, and the gutter insult it had been thinly veiled in. She yanked again… harder…

***

Din’s scalp was still buzzing from the glorious pain, and the feeling of her sliding heat had him in bliss. He could feel her swollen little clitoris gliding over him, slippery in the gorgeous wet slick she had covered them both in. The Mando’a had clearly done its work. She was going for it - building up.

He grabbed her voluptuous tits, gently pinching and rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, causing her face to light up in glee. “Harder!” she said greedily. As he obliged her, he felt her hips shift angle, and her improbable wetness somehow increased. A red flush started to show on her chest and neck. She was about to make the jump to light speed (as she would say) and was not holding back.

“That’s it… cum for me…” he said softly, urging her on to the finish.

Her pace slowed, her hips shifted again, and the words he had been keenly waiting for, finally escaped the Pirate. Her distinctive Clan accent was raw and unhindered as she cried out “M’min bay sarl’i!”

_Minmin bey salhi! – I’m jumping!_

Din felt her _explode_ into hyperspace. As her orgasm took her fully, she shouted “Fuuuuu-uuu-uuuu-uuu-uuuu-uuck!” The word wavered in the air as her whole body shook, her flushed face awash with ecstasy. Her pussy had transformed into a molten inferno, and the force of her climax caused it to squeeze rapidly on him. His cock gave a huge lurch inside her, almost as if shouting in triumph.

The Mando groaned as his hands and eyes drank in every inch of her blushing body, and his dick revelled in the amazing feeling her orgasm put forth.

***

As Tur continued to shake, Din held her close. “Fuck me, that was good...” she breathed.

“Fuck you? If you insist.” Pushing upwards slowly, he started to fuck her back a little. It kept her pussy throbbing gently in the wake of her delight.

Slicked with sweat, and more, she slumped into the bounty hunter’s embrace and allowed him to take the pilot’s chair. Din’s discreet thrusting was done precisely and with care, and it kept her quivering inside. She knew the Mando was trying to make her orgasm roll as far as it would go, and he would not stop until he had forcibly taken every last squeeze the hot mess between her legs had to offer.

Savouring his kisses, she allowed herself to keep giving in to his cock’s gentle insistence for aftershocks.

***

Din was dying to unleash inside her, but his need to fuck her savagely, outweighed his need to blow a cheap load in her now. “As soon as you stop shaking, I’m going to give you that thrashing you want.” he said, as he finally stopped kissing her.

 _“I want_? Whadabout _yew_ , boun’y hunner?” Turhaya’s accent was thick, as she grinned contentedly at him.

“Oh, I want, Pirate. I want badly...”

And he did. He’d waited many long years to fuck a woman properly. It was the only aspect of obeying Creed he had ever struggled with. But now he could indulge freely, and like any Mandalorian, he did everything worth doing well with passion and pride.

The hunger, _the need_ , which had plagued him for years, had not yet lost its edge. Tur was exceedingly generous, but he was nearly always erect when they were alone. Longing for more, even when he had nothing left to give.

Fortunately, right now, he had plenty to give.

“Get off me, Corellian scum.” Din demanded with a smirk, and he grabbed her by the hips, pulling her up off his lap and pushing her to one side. Knees still on the bench, she bent over the fur on the table. Getting up and standing behind her, Din grabbed her hip with one hand, and his dick with the other. Rubbing himself over her swollen pussy, he said in mock seriousness “It’s time someone ran you in, Hundteth. You’re far too troublesome to be let loose.”

“Yeah? Well, I ain’t goin’ in quiet, motherfucker.” She growled playfully, as he slid the head of his cock back inside her.

“Well, outlaw. I’m not going in quiet _either_...” and he _jammed_ himself into her at full force, causing her to cry out. He slowly started to withdraw, before jamming his cock in hard again. Now she moaned in earnest longing, as he continued withdrawing slowly and entering brutally. She was yelping with pleasure every time his head pushed at her cervix.

“Fuckin’ Guild! ... _oh!_... I’m gonna... _fuck!_... make you earn those... _ahh!_.. credits.” She grinned at him over her shoulder.

“Really?” he got on his knees on the bench seat too, gently nudging her legs apart to get his own between them. He pushed her further onto the table, and held her down with his body, so she was now face-down on the fur as he lay against her back. Entwining their fingers, Din started kissing her shoulders and neck. Tasting her skin. Feeling her soft hair with his face. Smelling its sweet perfume. Thankful for his lack of helmet.

He grabbed her wrists and thrust both of her arms roughly above her head. Spying her Mudhorn tattoo, which was now by her face, he leaned over and slowly licked the dark marking on the pale skin. She turned her head to watch him, and he paused briefly to growl quietly in her ear “ _Ner_ kyr’amur!”. In Mando’a, it meant ‘ _my_ kill!’

Din felt her lock her ankles around his own in response. He let go of her wrists with one hand (leaving the other to secure his catch) and reached underneath her to play with her clit. Tur’s back arched as the Mando deftly handled her delicate bud. He ran his fingers around her lips, feeling himself enter her, stimulating them both at the same time with his touch.

Eventually, after he had finished feeling their union, he withdrew his hand, and settled his hips into a firm and steady rhythm. Din said, “I hear there’s a pretty price for your carcass, ink-head.”

“Oh, there’s a _huge reward_ for any man skilled enough to collect on _my_ puck.” She purred, pushing back onto him, and he knew she would give in willingly to his every desire. She continued to wiggle her ass against him, tilting it so he could get in deep.

He let out a groan against her back, and worked her wet heat a little harder, the feeling of having complete freedom inside her, incredibly satisfying. “Don’t worry, I’ll collect. I never miss a quarry.” he breathed quietly into her ear.

The desire to give fully of themselves without restraint meant they were in for a wild time. For how can any great thirst be slaked, without equally great outpourings of generosity?

***

Tur was just about to reply when, for the second time, bleeping noises interrupted them. The tech deck suddenly lit up like Coruscant.

“Looks like the Mayfeld-Dune show is about to start. Junk hotel has been accessed. Pass me your tracker.” she said. He passed it to her, getting up off her back to allow her to work. She hoisted herself onto her elbows and looked back at him, grinning “Don’t stop fucking.”

“Who’s piloting this ship?” He started thrusting steadily again.

“Smart ass!” She kept tapping, and suddenly, sound issued from the deck.

Mayfeld’s voice...

***

“They’re still making out.” Din observed, as he continued to lazily fuck her.

He leaned back a little, so he could watch himself slide in and out of her, giving her time to get Razor Crest Radio underway. His wife was fond of brutally short personal grooming, and he could see _everything_. Her blushing outer lips, and her small, neat, inner haven. He was angrily red and glistening in her pleasure’s slippery wake. Her pale, smooth backside nicely framed the whole picture, and Din appreciated being able to view it with his own eyes, instead of the visor. As he kneaded her gorgeous, fleshy ass, he pulled her cheeks apart every now and then. Glimpses of her tiny, puckered asshole gave him ideas.

He pulled his dick all the way out and slapped her gently on the butt cheek with it “Hurry up, or I’m putting this in your ass”. As she laughed, he settled his cock back into her warm, inviting centre, and resumed his slow stroke.

The Pirate finally broadcast her announcement in an articulate, sultry voice which (even though she was being a mocking jerk) made his balls ache with need. She crooned sensually to her Clan in perfect Corellian:

“Ol’val, Corellisi! Chinoche, ihn special elton de Racil Tuf Ratioaparat. Sanlo fho sanlo, Hunto: ten bey uhl Mayfeld-Dune Monhr...”

_Hello, Corellians! Tonight, a special edition of Razor Crest Radio. Blood for blood, Dogs: this is the Mayfeld-Dune Show..._


	2. The Show

“Let the games begin.” Tur grinned back at the Mando, watching him gracefully swing his hips. Sweat was gleaming on his chest, and his expression was greedy as he watched himself penetrate her. She knew Din loved seeing everything without the inconvenience of having that damn helmet in the way.

She wound her fingers into the fur on the table again, pushing back in time with Din’s steady beat, her hips hungry and insistent. He was hard as fuck, felt fantastic, and was making the most gorgeous little grunts of pleasure.

“Fuck yes!” She pushed her ass into him hard. Din rightly took her aggressive move as the signal to knock things up a gear. He grabbed her hips firmly with both hands and began thrusting harder.

Tur fumbled for the tracker, and turned up the volume to compensate for the increased noise of her own cries...

***

Cara: Now, remember the safety word is Porg.

Mayfeld: I love the way you say Porg. It sounds so hot.

Cara: You’d better watch that mouth, Triggerman. It’d be a shame to have to put you out of action before the fun begins.

Mayfeld: Listen sweetheart, I like the rough stuff, but I ain’t no fucking submissive, alright? I’ll play along if it gets you where you need to go, but I won’t take too much of your crap. You wanna talk rotten, I’m cool with that, but don’t expect me not to want to join in.

Cara: Fine. I’ll let you run off your smart mouth. But I do like to be begged. If you play along a little for me, I’ll make it worth your while.

Mayfeld: Deal.

Cara: Good. Now, come here, you delicious ginger. I need to be eaten.

Mayfeld: Shit yeah, Princess. I thought you’d never ask.

Cara: Yeah, that’s it… down you go…

***Kissing*****

Mayfeld: Your tits… are… amazing…

***Kissing*********

Cara: Hurry the fuck up, Triggerman!

Mayfeld: You impatient bitch, I’m going! Stop pushing on my fuckin’ head. Now, spread those gorgeous legs.

Cara: Get in there, Red. I’m going to thigh crush that dumb look off your face…

***

The Mandalorian was rejoicing in the power and pleasure that had been rendered up to him by the Pirate.

It didn’t matter how he fucked her – slow and soft, brutal, teasing – she loved every minute of it. Din was free to do everything he desired, treating her tight pussy any way he wanted, and occasionally thumbing her dainty, willing, little asshole. He blindly followed his instincts, fucking however he felt, selfishly taking by the grace of her generosity.

But he would always give without hesitation when called upon by his queen to do her bidding.

“Oh yeah, that’s it, baby! Get him!” she moaned, as he continued to steadily, and roughly, bury himself in her softness. Tur writhed face-first on the fur to the sounds of Cara’s screams, clearly longing to put her own tongue between the shock trooper’s legs. “Din! Fuckin’ smack me!!!” she cried out unexpectedly.

_WHACK!_

He brought his hand down sharply on her ass, spanking her soundly. She quivered and squirmed, as the sounds of Cara’s pleasure continued in the background. She demanded more, in clumsy Mando’a “Akalenedat, beroya!” _Hard contact, bounty hunter!_

_WHACK!!!_

Din smacked her harder, squarely on the pink mark already showing on her ass. This time she shouted “Yes!”, her back arching, but the Pirate wasn’t done. “More!”

_WHACK!!!!!!!_

This time, the Mandalorian paused his thrusting momentarily, and brought his hand down on her as hard as he could with a barbaric grunt. Tur’s legs almost buckled under the physical force, and the satisfaction of it. An unbidden, whorish wail escaped her.

It gave Din a form of savage joy to see her savour such brutal punishment as a turn on. His cock strained with arousal, and words suddenly, and aggressively, burst out of his mouth “Fuck, I want to spray your insides!”

“Do it!” she panted “But you’ll be eating it out later.”

“You think I’m afraid of a little jizz?”

“A _little_?” she looked back at him “Not the way you cum.”

Din looked at her, weighing up the odds. He ate up her sultry expression framed by dark, silken hair. His eyes devoured her creamy skin, which was punctuated by exotic ink. And he loved the glowing, red patch on her ass, which now served as the gateway to the sensational sight of her delectable pussy. “I don’t care,” he concluded “Nothing’s stopping me from drinking your nectar.”

“That’s so hot…” her eyes closed lazily with lusting hunger.

“But I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of your favourite meal.”

“That’s even hotter. I’m going to suck you dry, until you beg me to stop.”

“I don’t beg.”

“We’ll see...”

***

***Slap*****

Cara: Say it again!

Mayfeld: A280-CFE convertible blaster...

Cara: Yes!

Mayfeld: BlasTech Industries…

***Moaning*******

Cara: That’s it…

Mayfeld: Reconfigures through two attachments… Shit, you’re good!

***Slap*****

Cara: Focus, Triggerman!

Mayfeld: Ah… Multi-optic scope! Extendable rifle buttstock!

Cara: More!

Mayfeld: Enhanced Galven-patterns!

Cara: Oh, yeah…

***Moaning*******

Mayfeld: Woah!... Easy, baby, you’re going to put my hip out.

Cara: Do you want to be broken or not, little man?!

Mayfeld: Yes, Princess. I will obey…

***Slap*****

***

The reinforced legs of the kitchen table were now squeaking under the pressure Din was applying.

So was Tur. 

Her ass was angled out so Din could stand behind her once more. She gripped the edge of the table as he pounded her unrelentingly, the extra leverage he could achieve while standing on the floor, put to incredibly good use.

The Pirate was squealing in ecstasy, as his cock stretched and challenged her thirsty little pussy. Her tight, hot flesh squeezed him steadily towards climax. The feeling of her ass smashing into him as he fucked her savagely, was exquisite. He released one of her hips from his iron grip, and roughly grabbed her by the hair. One of her hands flew up instinctively to her head, and he slapped it away, growling angrily in Mando’a “Nu draar!” _No way! Absolutely not!_

He resumed his hold on her hair and took out his punishment. The screams coming from her mouth sounded almost like pain, but the heat between her legs told the Mandalorian her noises were pure pleasure. If she’d wanted him to stop, the feisty little Tauntaun would have said so. Instead she continued to moan like a cheap whore. She loved it.

He loved it.

Din scolded her with “Atiniir!” A Mando’a word which meant _endure_ , but also (as in this context), meant ‘ _take it!’._ He shifted his hand from her hair to her shoulder, so he could get a better hold, and fuck her for everything he was worth.

The Mando’s legs and ass worked tirelessly, thrusting his hips with full force, and his arms furiously pulled her on to him, in his mission to destroy her.

“Atiniir... Atiniir...” he grunted. _Take it... Take it..._

Her cries were jerky due to the pounding her body was taking, every yelp of satisfaction bounced forcibly out of her mouth…

… as her engorged pleasure spot massaged his shaft…

…and her warm nectar made his cock practically sing…

…and his swollen head pushed forcibly at her cervix…

…and his balls slapped against her with every brutal thrust…

_…Take it..._

_…Atiniir!_

Din felt the subtle, yet tell-tale surge. The feeling which echoed quietly around his body and awakened his brain to the fact that he was building up. The glorious realisation that orgasm was within reach.

“Ah, Fuck... Cetar!” _Kneel in submission!_ The Mando’a command was his shorthand way of telling the Pirate she should position herself in front of him so he could feed her. He was ready to unload down her throat.

He pulled out, hand able to work at a vigorous pace, since his engorged dick was still freshly bathed in her wet, plentiful sweetness. He kept himself on the verge, as she quickly turned around and sat on the seat in front of him. Turhaya’s expression was greedy, tongue poised on her lip waiting to take him. The Mando fed his prick to her pretty little mouth once more, and allowed her to relieve his hand of its duty.

As she sucked and moaned, and her tongue massaged around his head, one of her hands rapidly stroked his shaft. Din felt himself accelerate towards orgasm. Just as he started his approach to the point of no return, she sealed his fate by gently cupping his balls in her free hand, and running her fingers teasingly over his sack towards his ass.

A rush of ecstatic pleasure immediately engulfed him. Hit him like a proton torpedo. Almost levelled him. The Mandalorian’s voice was hoarse, as he roared in Mando’a “Mar’e!” _At last! Relief!_

Pulsing, gushing, complete satisfaction, began to overtake him…

***

She felt it all.

The sensation of movement on her tongue, as the cum surged up his cock. The throbbing, urgent pushing of his smooth head as he spurted. The deliriously tasty experience of his hot, salty semen pouring down her throat.

She drank as though desperate with thirst, ensuring not a single drop went to waste. Savouring every delicious swallow, as he emptied his liquid lust into her mouth with rhythmic grunts. Once he had lapsed into gentler throbs, she pushed him ever-so-gently deeper. Holding him by his awesome ass, he was now captive to her mouth. Tur softly worked the Mando with her tongue, as he continued to groan overhead like he was about to die.

Din’s glorious muscles were enticing, strained from exertion. His dark body hair glistening with well-earned sweat. Chest heaving with exhausted breath. His gorgeous face, brow furrowed, and teeth bared, was fucking beautiful in the intensity of his release.

She had to do it. See that pretty face wear a look of submission. Because despite Din’s misguided belief that the Mudhorn tattoo proclaimed her as his property, she did not ink herself in the name of fealty. Hundteth Clan ink in victory.

Had she not whispered every filthy wish to him, as she had ridden him to her own glory? Had she not commanded him to act, while he had pounded her relentlessly? Corellians always captain their own ship, even when the co-pilot takes control of the stick. _He_ was _her_ kill.

Turhaya was about to make Din Djarin beg.

***

The roaring majority of his climax had passed, and the Mandalorian’s head buzzed with an approaching sense of satisfied calm. Tur ensured she got every last drop, and she cleaned her own sweetness away as diligently as the last drizzles of his cum. She grabbed his ass and held him close to her, pushing him deeper into her throat.

He looked down at her, his cock still parting her petite mouth, which caressed him to his final, pulsating conclusion. His cravings had been well and truly satisfied, and his body felt like it was glowing in its post-coital bliss.

“Fuck... I’m done…”

Din let out a heavy sigh, basking in his contentment, allowing his wife to prolong the experience a while longer as she ensured he was thoroughly licked clean. Wallowing in both his physical relief, and the warm, slow tonguing his cock was still enjoying.

It was a little while before he realised that Turhaya showed no signs of stopping, and he was now well and truly finished. He tentatively tried to pull away, but she grabbed him firmly by the ass, and fleetingly scolded him with a sudden and powerful display of her devastating suction. The sharpness of it stung, and the sensation of her mouth now started to send small, squirming, shocks through his body.

“You can stop.” he said, a little louder. His voice was becoming slightly shaky, but the Pirate ignored it, and continued to gently bathe him with her tongue.

His legs started to weaken, and he was forced to put his hands on her shoulders to steady himself. It was then Din realised that Tur had no intention of letting him go without getting what she wanted. The sensation of pleasure hit a searing crescendo, and he grunted “That’s enough!” He would not yield so easily.

Din began to shiver, and he tenderly stroked her hair away from her face, attempting to reach a peaceful cease fire. “Tur, I mean it…” his trembling voice sounded unusually weak. But her soft, warm mouth continued in its mission to bring him to his knees.

She took him well beyond his climax, and was sucking slowly, while looking into his eyes. Din’s ears were ringing, and he felt genuinely drunk on his lust, as the room began to spin. He was sweating profusely, and a chill ran unrelentingly over his skin…

And still the Pirate would not stop. Instead, she slowly circled her tongue around him.

The sensation in his cock reached an almost painful, exquisite, peak and he grunted loudly as if wounded. He closed his eyes and his whole body shook uncontrollably now, as thunderous waves of dizzying sensitivity crashed over him like Kamino’s seas.

He could barely stand. He could barely think. He could barely breathe…

Din had no choice…

Face screwed up tightly against the agonising ecstasy, he finally conceded defeat. In a shuddering, half-whisper, he implored her desperately _“Cyar’ika, gedet’ye… Gedet’ye!”_

_Darling, please… Please!_

The Mandalorian had begged.

Gently…

Tenderly…

Finally…

She removed him from her mouth.

Din sunk onto the seat next to her. Reeling with pleasure. Mind swimming, he closed his eyes and sat with his head back. Breathing hard, he was drenched in sweat and still shaking, as he leant against the table. Tingling jolts needled at his skin, and everything felt completely drained and sated, including his soul.

The Mando’s satisfaction was full and complete.

His eyes still closed, he felt her small, naked form cuddle up to his side, and he allowed his arm to return her embrace as she placed her head on his chest.

“Well?” her voice penetrated the fog that had muddled his brain.

“Mar’eyce” he muttered.

In Mando’a, it meant ‘ _a state of heaven’_.

Her reaction to this news made him chuckle weakly, because she mumbled quietly from his chest “ _Mia_ m’r’ili…”

 _Mia_ morhili.

In Olys Corellisi, it meant, ‘ _my_ kill’.


	3. The Bedroom

Din hated to admit it, but… “I need to lie down.”

“Should we move this party to the bed, then?”

“I think so. Grab the tracker.”

His wife’s bedroom ( _their_ bedroom now) was bigger and far more luxurious than the sparse guest room he had stayed in when he first arrived here. The bedding was more comfortable, the blankets softer, the furs thicker, and the pillows plentiful.

Din settled in under the covers, while the Pirate switched on a small speaker device on the table next to the bed. Connected to the cabin’s central system (like everything on Offmap) it immediately brought the Mayfeld-Dune Show to life again. Tur joined him in bed, sliding over and wrapping her naked limbs around him.

Din lay against the pillows with his eyes closed, allowing his muscles to relax in the warmth “I’m going to need a few minutes after that one.”

“You alive, old man?” she chuckled.

“Barely, old hag… Although I think I’m faring better than Mayfeld.”

“Doesn’t mind his rough stuff, does he?”

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“Not to that extent... I bet he likes his ass done, too.”

“You mean?...”

“Who knows? But that wasn’t what I meant. I just reckon he’ll ask Cara to do it. Some guys like their women to… you know…” Tur made a gesture with her fingers to push the point home.

Din was curious “Does that even work?”

“If you don’t find out from the show, I’ll tell you later…”

***

Cara: In the mouth?

Mayfeld: Fuck, yeah. Right in the mouth. Lay it on thick with the insults, too, sweetie.

Cara: You’re sure?

Mayfeld: Yeah, do it.

Cara: Alright, then… you Empire-loving piece of filth…

****WHACK******

Mayfeld: That’s it… more…

Cara: Worthless, shit-eating, criminal scumbag!

****WHACK*********

Mayfeld: Come on, Princess… Wipe me out like the Imp that I am.

Cara: _Shut up, you little creep!_

****WHACK*****************

Mayfeld: Oh yeah, that’s the good stuff.

***Slap*********

Cara: What do you say, Rusty?!

Mayfeld: Please, goddess, make me beg for your pain!

***

Din let out a low whistle and muttered “Sweet Mandalore!” as Mayfeld took another devastating punch in the face.

They had been lying under the warm covers while the Mando recovered, listening intently to the brutal theatre which was playing out in the junk hotel. Keenly discussing it (quite literally) blow by blow.

Tur had a slightly shocked look on her face as she said weakly “When they agreed on a safety word, I wasn’t expecting _that_. No wonder you couldn’t knock the smarmy fucker on his ass.”

Din chuckled “If Cara can’t knock him out, no one can.”

“That woman sure is something. Moans like a champ when she gets eaten, too…” Tur’s voice turned into a sultry purr. Her hand, which until this point had been laying contentedly on Din’s chest, started to sneak its way under the covers down his stomach.

“She’s not the only one.” Din said, as her hand reached its destination. Clearly the Pirate was ready to go again, so he added “Speaking of worshipping the goddess…”

“Chakta Sai Kae!”

The Mandalorian pulled the covers completely off them. He would not allow this experience to be fettered by bedding. Carefully he climbed on her, and with one arm steadying himself, kissed her. As their tongues entwined, he used his free hand to touch her face softly. He slowly and gently ran his hand down her neck and over her upper arm, doubling back in search of her plump breasts, before heading up again to find her hair.

Next, his mouth travelled south, running the same path his hand had, over her neck, arm, and breasts. He spent some time, as was his way, rubbing his face against her soft tits, and licking at her hard nipples. Tasting skin, feeling her warmth on his lips, and the rise and fall of her body beneath him, as she breathed heavily in anticipation.

Din trailed his tongue over her stomach causing her to squirm, as he continued his journey down her body. He spent time rubbing his face in between her thighs. Stroking the silky skin. Kissing her. Working his way inward to the source of her heat.

He kissed her outer lips, her enticing smell drawing him in. But he had no intention of stopping to tease her, because he could already feel his dick wanting to become hard again. He needed this just as much as she did. Starting at her closely shorn mound, he ran his tongue down. As he reached her hot crease, he wiggled his tongue in, searching out her bud, while she made quiet noises of pleasure above him.

“Oh shit!” she moaned.

“That’s it… moan for me, Tauntaun.”

She bleated accurately like an actual Tauntaun, and Din, caught completely off guard, laughed while his mouth was still on her. His tongue, which was pressed against her, shook with mirth, and a real moan was let out. The Mando looked up to see a mix of triumph, pleasure and humorous glee plastered all over her face.

“You did that deliberately.” he said.

“Possibly.” she grinned “How are the take-off conditions, fly boy?”

“Kandosii’la.” _Stunning. Amazing._ His tongue resumed its quest.

It was a complex feeling. Hard to describe. For the Mandalorian, who was normally impeded by the beskar, the experience was beyond compare. All five senses - sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch - are seated in the head (touch being the only sensation received by the entire body). The intense pleasure of having her all around his face was intoxicating.

He moaned and swore quietly as he savoured her with every sense he possessed. He tasted her glorious juices and breathed in her beautiful scent. Her moaning was music to his ears, and he stopped occasionally (albeit briefly) just to look at her delicately neat form up close. But the touch was the best of all…

Soft thighs brushing against his head as she wiggled. Hot, sweetly dripping pussy against his mouth. Every now and then she would reach down and play with his hair, gently sweeping sweaty, wayward strands out of his eyes, and combing tenderly with her fingers and nails. It completed the immersion, and there was not a helmet in sight to fuck it up for him.

It was slow and sensuous, unlike their brutal kitchen table sex. A different kind of ecstasy. Again, he had absolute control, using the freedom to drive her pleasure. The noise of her cries, and feeling of her writhing, only added to the sensory experience. Her joy was his joy.

He worked his tongue around her clitoris, rubbing it from every angle. Pushing down each side of it, before stroking it hard up the middle. Circling it lazily. He paused to suck gently, before working it again. Din kissed, sucked, licked, and tasted, loosing himself in the experience.

With his face happily buried between her thighs, and his weight on his elbows, he been running his hands over her stomach. But he was now longing to touch her somewhere else. Shifting his weight onto one arm, he slowly trailed one hand down, around her smooth hip and under her ass. His reclaimed hand joined his mouth to revel in her heat.

Din teased her lips with one finger. While his tongue kept her aroused, little clit occupied, his finger gently snuck its way inside her. Tur was fantastically hot and wet. Her hold on him was both firm and yielding. He slowly rotated his hand, causing her to moan. He kept twisting, while working in and out, causing her to push her hips gently towards his mouth.

He slowly pulled his finger out the whole way, and allowed a second to join it, before repeating the same sensuous, twisting manoeuvre. He sought the wrinkly, protruding spot on her front wall. Gently he began to stroke, keeping his touch understated. He found that her climaxes were more powerful with a ‘less is more’ approach. His technique was working wonders, and her warm juices began to run out over his fingers, dripping down onto the bed beneath them.

***

Tur ran her hands over her own body, now Din’s were well and truly occupied. She softly inflamed her own skin, teasing her nipples, running fingers up into her own hair, and down to caress her hips. All the while thinking about his touch, as her hands shadowed movements of their pleasure past. She knew if she came quickly, she may just be treated to a second bout of ecstasy. Because if the Wampa hadn’t eaten his own fill by that point, he sometimes kept going for another serving…

He had been over-enthusiastic his first time, and it was nearly a complete disaster. However, the Mandalorian followed orders well, and was determined to swiftly master the subtle art of oral sex, which he had long coveted from beneath the beskar. She had taught him precisely how to please her, tease her, own her, and even turn her off, entrusting him to use this knowledge wisely.

Her thought was interrupted by an instruction “Hold your legs up for me.” She complied, holding her thighs close to her body, so he could work her from below. As his hands caressed her ass and the underside of her thighs, making her shiver under his touch, the Mando licked her in long, loving strokes, before working his tongue into her hot centre.

The feeling of his strong tongue slowly fucking her, made her toes curl with pleasure. He was exploring her, greedily seeking out the spot he had previously been working with his fingers. With her legs in the air, it was easily accessible to him, and the feeling made her start to swear again.

“Oh, fuck… Shit, that’s good… Holy fucking Hondo…”

Din’s tongue danced with her body, and Tur closed her eyes, captivated by the glorious feeling inside her.

***

The Mandalorian’s tongue resumed its mission to pleasure her bud, and his fingers got back to work, but not before allowing the Pirate to relax her legs again so he could ease her into climax. This time he worked her soft centre a little faster, allowing his mouth to become a shade greedier. Tur’s hands now gripped at the bed, and her hips swayed gently as she continued to swear and moan.

Unlike him, his wife could have more than one orgasm from oral sex. Din’s personal best so far was getting four out of her in one sitting. Patience and delicacy, she said, were the real keys. If you want the fire power of heavier ordinance, you needed to be prepared for a slower reload time, and a more strategic game.

But reward was coming, as was Tur. Her heat and sweet wetness increased, and he felt the first shuddering throb on his fingers. The sensation which meant she was already past the point of no return. Din eased off just enough to stretch out the time between now and when her orgasm took her fully.

Her pussy gave his fingers a second, deliciously firm squeeze, and he said quietly “Relax… Relax…”.

He felt her hips settle and her legs become still, and heard the deep, steading breath she took. As Tur relaxed her body, she became hotter and moaned again. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she whispered, as his tongue danced over her clit.

A third shudder in response to his touch. He felt her back arch above him, and her legs wiggled around his head, brushing him with soft, warm skin. Her nectar ran over his hand, and he savoured it as he licked greedily, while his fingers revelled in her soft, hot, slick, grip.

Din glanced up in time to see the look of ecstasy on her face, and the tell-tale red flush which had taken over her skin. He immediately felt himself become genuinely hard, as his own arousal surged with hers.

She was ready. “Now, cum for me...” he groaned into her.

He worked her firmly and quickly with his tongue…

…eliciting a fourth, more powerful, squeeze.

Almost there…

Din flicked his fingers rapidly inside her…

…while his tongue pressed and danced…

…she stopped wriggling and shifted her hips…

His cock gave a throb of expectation…

He let his mouth have its greedy rein, and unleashed his full passion on her with his tongue…

…every withheld desire flowing from him, as her juices flowed down onto the bed…

…and with a last, shaking, urgent grip…

“Give it to me.” he whispered.

“Oh, fuck! I am!!!” she wailed loudly, and true to her Corellian word, her hot pussy burst into a quaking, fierce orgasm around his hand.

***

The exquisite build up paled in comparison to the glorious squeezing which overtook Tur’s body as she climaxed. Waves of pleasure washed over her, as the heat between her legs writhed compulsively on Din’s fingers. It took her a while to realise the weird cry that reached her ears had come from her own mouth.

Sweat covered her, as she shook with an ecstasy that emanated from everywhere in her body. She felt his fingers gently leave her, while his tongue slowed itself into a gentle caress, licking her plentiful wetness away.

She continued to tremble against his tongue, fully aware from the tone of his quiet groans, that the Wampa was still very hungry.

***

Din was still ravenous, and once again, hard as fuck “Pass me a couple of pillows…”

She handed him the pillows as requested, and he lifted her ass, putting them underneath the small of her back. Her butt now raised off the bed, he pushed her legs into the air by her hamstrings and resumed licking her.

However, this time he did not intend on stopping where he had before.

“Take your legs.” he said.

After trailing his tongue around her clitoris for a while, he moved down to her hot opening, allowing his thumb to take over on her swollen bud….

After probing her hungrily for a while with his tongue, he paused his mouth, allowing his fingers to take over working her trembling wetness…

After leaving his hand to pay service to her pussy…

He took his tongue slowly down to where it was longing to go…

***

Mayfeld: Just go easy at first and aim for the spot I told you. And watch your fingernails.

Cara: You’re sure about this?

Mayfeld: Absolutely. You won’t even have to touch my cock, and I’ll cum.

Cara: _Really?_ Shit, that’s hot…What if I _want_ to touch it?

Mayfeld: Be my guest, Princess.

Cara: What if I want to suck it?

Mayfeld: Then you’re getting a face full, quick.

Cara: Sounds too good to be true. Where do you want to put it?

Mayfeld: Face, boobs, I don’t care. Swig it down like spotchka. Whatever you like, just keep working those fingers.

***

Din lay contentedly between her legs, his head on her warm stomach. It was still giving the occasional shiver, as she lazily played with his hair.

Tur grinned down at him, face still flushed pink with pleasure, and said “See?”

“The things you learn in the Hundteth house.” he said quietly. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his face into her skin.

“Yeah, but it works, so…”

“Maybe… one day…” he replied, doubtful that day would ever come.

“Chumani!” she teased.

Din looked up with his eyebrow raised “Are you calling me a pussy?”

“Most definitely.” She was smirking at him now.

“I’ll give you, pussy, woman.”

“You just did.”

“Then I guess it’s time you gave me some.”

Her expression turned from smug humour, into a genuinely warm smile. “I’m yours to command, Mandalorian.”

Din made his way up her body into her embrace, saying “No, Corellisi. I’m held to your command. I consider it the Seventh Action of the Resol’nare.”

She laughed happily, setting her beautiful, expressive eyes alight “Ibic cuyir te ara!” - _This is the Way!_ As Tur’s laughter simmered, curious puzzlement clouded her look.

“What?” They were now face to face.

“Just wondering how I got so fucking lucky.” she said in bald honesty.

He stroked her hair away from her eyes, before saying “Old Clan don’t believe in luck.”

The clouds instantly cleared from her expression, and she kissed him.

***

He loved her. And he loved to be loved by her.

It had been emotionally excruciating the first time, despite the physical pleasure. Neither of them were able to withstand the crushing impact on their hearts. Hearts that had been conditioned to war and solitude, and were used to loneliness, fear, brutality, and death.

Surprisingly, she had succumbed to tears first. Din had genuinely thought it would be he who dissolved early in the face of such a new and vivid experience, but it was not so. Oddly, the appearance of her tears did not happen at her own climax, but his. He had struggled to understand this, and her explanation didn’t help “I’ve been gifted the task of your happiness, Bucket Brain. To make it real is its own reward.”

Bera had explained it to him afterwards, but it had really hit home one night on the _Trivium_ , when she said to him quietly “To be needed is to have purpose, and at the end of the day, that’s what drives us all.”

***

They weren’t fucking anymore. This time they made love.

Tur knew they were deep in the vulnerable place, where even the mightiest Mandalorian must feel like a small, giddy child. It was an emotional nakedness, well beyond the physical. Both claimed they were the one who had made the kill, but the truth of the matter was, they were slaves to a greater power.

He was fully within her embrace, as though their bodies were trying to obey their vows – ‘We are one’. Din was on top of her, and she had wrapped her legs tightly around him, as they held each other close, chests pressed firmly together.

When they made love, there were no words spoken. They read each other’s bodies, wholly connected by their senses. Drinking in the scorching look in each other’s eyes, and carefully watching facial expressions alight with dizzy fulfilment. Feeling the excited shivers in the other’s smooth skin, and mindful of the signals given by the hot, delicious arousal between their legs. Listening to soft moans, and quickening, shuddered breaths. Tasting tongues, while lips worked in gentle, sensuous unison. The same harmonious dance continued through their bodies, led by the rhythmic, slow grinding of their hips.

***

Din felt things were different when they not only relished the pleasure of themselves, or the other, but the greater ecstasy of their union. It was a subtle, almost unconscious feeling of gratitude for the forces which had brought them together in the first place. They worked in a synchronised dance, rocking themselves in obedience to the rhythm which neither had set, but which held them both captive.

Soon, their bodies became needy again. He lifted himself off her, pushing himself up by his arms, so they could pick up the pace.

But that’s when it happened…

***

Mayfeld: Ow! Ow! Fuck! Porg! PORG!

Cara: What? What’s wrong? Are you OK?

Mayfeld: Yeah, just give me a second... Ow! Fuck, my nipples!

Cara: Wait… what?!

***Giggling*****

Mayfeld: You nearly tore my fucking nipples off... Ah, shit that hurts…

Cara: Your _nipples_ are your weak point?

Mayfeld: What do you want me to say?! They’re sensitive! Ow, shit… Look at them - they’re so fucking red, I could signal ships in the upper atmosphere… What? What’s so fucking funny?

***Giggling*******

Cara: Your chest kind of looks like a Jawa…

***

Din chuckled into her shoulder, trying to kiss her neck, and failing “I’m sorry… I can’t stop laughing…”. He had collapsed back down on to her in a fit of laughter, and they now held each other close again, only this time shaking with (mostly) silent and suppressed giggles.

Mostly. Tur let out an undignified burst of her snort-and-cackle laugh as she said “I can’t either… I think Mayfeld might not last much longer. You might want to wrap things up.”

This surprised Din because the Pirate normally ran out of fuel before she wanted to stop. He lifted his head to look at her, slightly disconcerted “Why? I could keep going all night.”

“I know, but don’t you want to gloat? We can always continue later.”

“Good point… Then I guess I should fuck your brains out, and fast.”

***

The Mando spent a short amount of time ‘messing with the pilot’s settings’. It was a term the Pirate used to describe his habit of changing both his own position and hers, playing around with the depth and angle of his stroke.

Din was upright, weight back on his legs to free up his arms. He was moving her legs around between positions – over his shoulders, wrapped around him, pushing them up as far as they would go, one leg up and one down – as he thrust steadily and quickly. The attention he had been paying his little Tauntaun was rewarding him, and Tur felt amazing on his cock. Wet, swollen, and hot, in the aftermath of so much pleasure, she felt like paradise, looked like heaven, and he was able to penetrate her with sensational ease.

The Mando had everything now at his visual and tactile disposal. When he wanted to lean in and kiss her, he did. When he wanted to play with her jiggling, creamy tits, or suck on her hard nipples, he did. When he wanted to rub her aroused clit and make her squirm with delight as his cock slid in and out of her, he did.

But it was the sheer amount of attention aimed at him which really made him hard. With the clock ticking, both were focussed on his pleasure (although he knew from the sparkling heat in her gaze as she watched him groan, that Tur was getting off on it too).

Her hands touched him whenever they could. When he came in to kiss her, she immediately sought out his back and ass, occasionally scratching him with her fingernails exactly the way he liked it. Otherwise, she ran her hands continually with a sensuous touch over his chest, legs, and stomach. Whatever she could get her greedy fingers to… which occasionally involved reaching between their legs.

“Fuck me, Mando. I’m yours to use.” she said quietly, holding his hand in hers. Her eyes were blazing with hunger.

Tur brought his hand to her lips, licking and kissing his wrist tattoo, before taking one of his fingers and putting it in her warm, wet mouth. She slowly pushed his finger down her throat, sucking it, and moaning softly. Din felt his cock strain with pleasure inside her, as she once again showed the might of her suction. She withdrew his finger and licked her smiling lips, before purring “You still taste like me.”

A tense shudder of arousal ran down the Mandalorian’s spine. She was doing it for _him_. Putting on a show. Working as hard as he was to bring him to climax. The ego stroking made him just as horny as the feeling of her hot pussy satisfying his cock.

“K’olar!” _Come here!_ He leant down into her embrace, burying his face in her neck. Din picked up his pace as he held her, sinking himself into her heat as fast as he could. The wet, vigorous sliding of his cock inside her was pleasure beyond belief, and he panted into her ear “Fuck! This won’t take long at all…”

“That’s it, baby, blow for me. I want your hot cum to fill my pussy!” Her voice was washed with a slutty tone of pleading.

The woman always knew how to best seal his fate, paying close attention to what drove him crazily towards the point of no return, and how to make the most of his orgasms. Now, while he held her close, she struck for his weakest point. The earlobe.

The overwhelming sensation of her mouth engulfed him, as it had at the very start of their evening. His cock throbbed with surges of ecstasy. However, the Mandalorian’s hips didn’t quit, and he kept thrusting himself into her hot centre. This was not the time to hold back – this was time to be a War Dog: go at it like an animal, and live while you’re alive.

 _Let her_ push him over the edge.

Don’t fight it.

Go for it.

Let go.

With her warm, wet, mouth at his ear, accompanied by her soft noises…

With the feeling of her nails digging into his back…

With the sensation of her soft body writhing beneath him…

With her glorious, sweet, slick pussy rapidly stroking his raging hard on…

With his orgasm rushing forward to claim him…

With his mind swimming in unstoppable ecstasy…

Din Djarin let go…

Of everything…

And with a cry like an animal…

***

Tur revelled in the feeling of Din’s cock exploding with hot pleasure inside her. The Mando’s urgent, prolonged throbbing, bore witness to the extent of his satisfaction. He grunted and swore, and continued to pulse and thrust, as she gently released his ear and held him close.

She squeezed, in time with his own waning rhythm. Ensuring his joy was complete as possible by encouraging every drop from him. He let out a shuddering, weak chuckle, as he continued to slowly rock in time with her gripping prompts.

As his orgasm finally abated, he sank into her arms. She touched his back, trailing her fingers gently over his muscles, feeling the heat radiate from his body. She ran her hands down over his beautiful, firm ass, while his taut shoulders continued to heave with the effort of his ragged breathing.

He was still taking in huge breaths near her neck, and letting out an occasional quiet noise of contentment, when she turned her head to look at him. Although she could only see a portion of his face, the grin playing on it was unmistakable.

“Anyone would think you enjoyed that.” she said quietly.

“They’d be right.”

***

Din collapsed in a sweaty heap next to her on the bed, and she curled up to his side once more. The Mando held the Pirate close and tried to regain his breath, as the screeching of the Dropper and the Triggerman emanated from the speaker beside the bed. It was only then that Din realised he had completely lost track of the events occurring in the junk hotel.

It was not surprising.

Tur’s attention must have also returned to the show because she randomly asked him “Would you like to do the deed when they finish? Wrap up the show? After all, this is your kill.”

“I’d be honoured. I just hit the feed button, and Mayfeld will get an earful, right?”

“Yep. You’d better start getting dressed. It takes you forever to get all that crap on.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to come and stare at you like a creep, while I still can.”

“Good. Tur?”

“Mm?”

“Grab the tracker…”

***

Din couldn’t stop smiling. Tur sang quietly to herself as she helped him strap on the last of the beskar. The Mando wasn’t sure if she was enjoying the results of their revenge, or if she was simply riding a wave contented satisfaction, but he suspected it was both, because he was feeling that way himself.

“Mayfeld is still bleating.” he said.

The Triggerman had not yet calmed down from the shock of hearing the entire Clan applauding and cheering his sexual exploits. His voice blared insults from the intercom, which they had largely ignored up to this point. Tur marched over to the tech deck on the table, pressed a button, and shouted back “Oi! Give it a rest! See you outside!” before unceremoniously shutting down the whole deck, cutting off Mayfeld in mid-rant.

The Mandalorian fixed his last buckle and looked up to see his wife smiling at him. Watching him. Taking in his face before he disappeared under the helmet again.

“Do we have time for a quick kiss?” he asked.

“We’ve got a few minutes,” As Tur spoke, she walked to him. The Pirate put her arms around him and pulled him into a steamy kiss, before concluding “And you once promised me you would make every minute count.”

“I did,” He returned her kiss with one of his own, before adding “But I don’t make it count just to keep a promise. I make it count because I…”

“I know.”

***

_Mayfeld exited the hotel to the sound of clapping._

_“YEEEEESSSSS!!! RAZOR CREST RADIO! MAYFELD-DUNE EDITION! THE DOGS FUCKING LOVED IT!!!”..._

***

**Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please hit the kudos button to let me know!**


End file.
